The morning of the second-to-last day

The morning bustle around unpacking the tools and dividing up the work has settled, all are in position. The total stations are set up and calibrated, Slava is already at his kiln and saws the area in front carefully in two square pieces. At the house more burned daub and ceramics are carefully cleaned while the workers already cut the next spit 20-30cm deeper around them. They wheel the earth over to the hills of dumped dirt, where the sieve rattles away. The geologists fight with the screw threads of their corer, then trudge victoriously into the soy field to their area while Pia turns the botany bus around and drives off to Stolniceni Beach.

I sit on a mound of dumped earth and watch, for the second-to-last time, how the morning begins.

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